Poetry and Lyrics, Loot


 

 

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If I was a little bit younger I’d know what to say.

Because children don’t know what they’re risking, they don’t know what’s brave.

They’ve never felt the blade, so they don’t know the knife.

But you taught me quick what a cut was. You taught me to hide.

 

I can’t believe I am letting this happen again.

You opened up hell’s doorway and I walked right in.

I’d like to say I was innocent, but that’s not the truth.

I knew exactly what I wanted, and I wanted you.

 

So why am I shocked to be standing here, covered in cuts?

Promises from your dirty mouth never really meant much.

Honestly, I wanted proof I could steal your loot back.

That innocent girl’s shiny heart  with no chips and no cracks.

 

This time, as  I watch you go, I don’t hit my knees.

I don’t beg to the sky. I stand up, and  I turn to leave.

Maybe I’ll never get back those young, innocent eyes,

But I’d rather be scarred as I am, than a child who’s blind.

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Copyright 2014 Jessica Kelley

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Poetry and Lyrics, Grey Light

Take a shot of whiskey just to kiss your precious troubles behindshot of whiskey

Take a breath and count to death and last a little longer this time.

Oh, it’ll drain you of every drop you find.

Mercy is begging to the reaper to steal its time.

 

Take a crack and give it woman-1152610__180back and then pretend you’re falling in line.

Take the day and let if fade and kill that little piece of your mind

Oh, it will haunt you as you fake your sleep.

Darkness is friends with the lovers that you try to keep.

 

Silently darkness is chasing the daylght breaking

Ashes to ashes, the firelight falls to decay

Burgundy hands can’t wash all these remnants away

Grey light breaks through the black night and covers the pain.

I’ll Close My Eyes

Found a way around the Hanging Tree

Cover up your colors,the hanging tree poem

Cover up your past.

Leaving you behind was the hardest thing.

I’ll never tell you,

You’ll never ask.

Burn it down, that’s what was said to me,

But hope is a bird

So fragile she flies.

That’s the part of us escaping me.

A prayer for the better

Riding voices of lies.

But you’ve got a draw that always was a magnet

to this hard heart made of steel and stone.

I’m nothing more than broken little pieces

and needles can’t sew through these bones.

Footsteps echo as I walk along

Telling me you’re following,shadow hallway

Telling me you’re here.

Conscious thought says not to look behind,

Hearts are always traitors

Hearts are too sincere.

Sun is rising through these tattered halls

Throwing down your shadow

Whispering the truth.

Racing toward that next falling night.

I can outrun anything,

Anything but you.

I know the sun is safer for a reason,

But light still shines into your little cracks.

I see skin and I want to taste it,

So now I need my shadows back.

Lies can be stronger if you feed them

Hearts can be silenced if lies will eat them.closed eye

But I can’t hand over my tattered little ties

Locked onto parts of you that never died.

So I’ll close my eyes, I’ll shut my mouth,

and pretend this all away.

So I wrote a book … now what?

No, I’m really asking, now what?

A few weeks ago, I finally wrote the last sentence of the novel I have been writing for the past two years.

Two. Years.

As soon as I finished, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride.

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I was joyful. Ecstatic. I had finally accomplished something that I had dreamed about doing as a little girl, and I was proud of it. So proud! I mean who cares if nothing ever came of it, I WROTE A BOOK!!!!!!! If no one else liked it at least I did, and I was okay with that. So what if I poured two years of precious time and effort into this thing? I didn’t need anyone’s approval, I was a strong independent woman who has accomplished a DREAM!!!!!!!!!!

I WAS A CHAMPION!!!!!! Right? … Right?

Well, yea, I was technically right. But here’s the thing about books. There not worth much if no one reads them. So, how was I going to get people to read it? and enjoy it? As I stared at the 107,000 words I had written ( I know, it’s long) I couldn’t help but think, Now what?

So I did the only thing I could think of. I entered a contest.

I wasn’t under any delusions that I would magically win and suddenly become a best selling Author.  I entered because they promised feedback, and feedback is invaluable. Creating my entry also forced me to look at the first two chapters of my book with a critical eye. It forced me to edit. It forced me to cut. All in all, it made my story better.

So, that was a good start! I took a first step!  I am going somewhere!

And after that first step, I arrived at the same question .

Now what?

So, I’m entering more contests and trying to gather some draft readers. Truthfully I’m just stumbling around, sort of lost. I am taking some time to read other people’s work, because I think a good writer has to be an avid reader . My inbox is jam packed with books, just waiting for me to review them! I can’t wait!  But I am worried this new experience is going to change my ability to critically review.  Will I still be honest about flaws? Will I be too connected to the author’s feelings, and suddenly be too biased?

Great job!!!!...Sort of.
Great job!!!!…Sort of.

Am I going to say “good work” to everything, just because I truly understand the blood, sweat, and tears that went into these pages? I open the first book on my list nervously. It’s written by a favorite author of mine, Kate Avery Ellison (review coming soon!) and I dive into the story.

Thank the book gods, I think I’ll be okay!

I have always enjoyed looking past a book’s surface and focusing on the details. Pacing, world building, and all the technicalities have always held a little magic for me. Suddenly I notice these intricacies more. I can read between the lines so much clearer now.

I am excited to post my next book review. I think it will be one of my better ones.

As far as my own book goes, I’m still stuck on island “next step is unknown”.

Anyone out there have any suggestions? A map? A guide? Anything? If so, please, send me a message in a bottle.  I could use some book direction.